Monday, March 9, 2009

He stands in front of the liquor store selling a weekly newspaper that for years homeless people in Toronto have produced and sold on the streets for a dollar.

And last Friday, just like I do most Fridays, I handed him a two-dollar coin and accepted the paper.

"I see you coming!" he enthused. "You're a beautiful girl and I see you coming."

"Thank you," I said weakly. I didn't feel well and was fighting the beginning of a brutal cold that I feared (correctly) would render me unable to spend time with my mother-in-law in the hospital over the weekend as planned.

"Hey wait," he said, touching my arm as I turned to go.

And I turned.

"Good karma, eh. This is gonna bring good karma for you."

And I burst into tears.

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I have heard it said that the ability to cry is not actually a sign of weakness, but rather of strength.

But I don't believe it.

These days my emotions sit so close to the surface that they threaten to boil over at the slightest provocation. I am not strong, not at all. I feel weak and more vulnerable than I have ever been. I feel out of control.

I fear. I fear that the generally happy life I used to take for granted is in jeopardy. I fear that the body blows (not all of them detailed here) that my family has been dealt over the last year and a half are not merely the normal bumps in life that must be ridden out, but the new normal.

And so change is coming, it must come.

Rob and I are working on this change together. We are talking late into the night, most nights, about how we can and how we will change our lives in a manner that allows us to snatch back our happiness.

We feel that we are at a turning point. We feel as though we are at war, that we must stand up and fight to ensure that our lives and our son's life unfold in the healthiest and most joyful way possible.

Because if there is one thing that this dark period has taught us it is that we will not, cannot, wait for karma to intervene.

I'm so sorry you're going through a rough time, Kelly. I've always been one who's emotions come too close to the surface, so I totally understand the feeling of tears escaping at inopportune moments. It always feels like a sort of betrayal to me...like my eyes and tear ducts are letting me down when I most need them to stay strong. It's hard to hold back worries and fears with the tears make it all so damned apparent.

God bless you. I don't know how much that really means, not much into the god stuff, but in general, I think everyone who says it means the best. So, "The best to you and your family." Would be most appropriate...

Emotions are what they are. It's not about strength or weakness, it's simply part of being human. There have been days where contemplating getting out of bed has seemed too much. But I always do. And I know you do, too.Having said that, don't rush into a decision. You'll know when your heart and mind are in agreement, and will do what's necessary. You're too smart and loving to do anything else.

I'm so sorry, Kelly. I'm glad you two are talking about positive changes you can make - you are stronger than you think, your readers can tell that just from being loyal to your blog. The dark periods are so, so hard, it is often difficult to see the light - or to know it is out there.

I'm sorry you're wrapped up in this dark moment, but I must share that as I read this, *I* wanted to weep because there are so many words here that resonate with me. I've felt this darkness around me for weeks (and weeks and weeks) now and I'm trying so hard to find the way out into change. In the meantime, I'm sitting at stoplights and crying while en route to work.

So sorry things are rough for you right now. We are in a fairly similar situation. It's hard to stay positive and not worry about the future, and even minor setbacks seem to make me lose my balance. I hope good karma does come your way and that things will get better.

Oh Kel, I know where you're coming from here. I'm still in a funk, everything is changing around me and yet it isn't. I'm glad that you and Rob are working through this together, and taking control of things as best you can. I am excited for you.

And let's hope this crap weather let's up soon so we can have that drink...

Being able to express your emotions - through tears or yelling or writing or working out or whatever, is being strong. So cry or laugh or do whatever feels right to you at the time. I've been there and it's so very hard, but know that you're not alone. Hugs.

Lifting you up in prayer and holding you in my heart. I just ache as I read these posts, I am so sorry that you are struggling so. I pray that you will see daylight soon. I understand how hard change can be, we have really been through the wringer in the last couple of years and I am finally starting to see daylight and it is incredible. My heart has been ripped wide open, but the pain is lessening and the healing of the light is filling me and our life. there are still many hard things, but I feel like God is carrying us and keeping us and we will be okay. I know you will be to. You are working your changes, you are working together and heading bravely into the darkness and you will see light again, it will rise, bright and shining before you and you will see how far you have come and get a glimpse of the path before you. And you will be okay. And there will be peace. And even joy again. I know you look for the joy in your everyday, in your boy and those things can help sustain you. You don't have to be strong, you can't do it all on your own. We are ultimately not in control. It is in your weakness that you can be lifted up and carried. It is okay. Let go. Breathe. Cry. Have courage, have faith. Many hugs and prayers,K